Brink
by unset city
Summary: The darkness bound them to this world, just as they were bound to each other... Two enemies sharing a common ground, sitting on that brink to everything...


Brink

_Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or the Joker_

_This is from Bruce/Batman's POV, by the way! Hope you enjoy!_

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He stood on the brink of chaos, and still he kept laughing. That insane sound, more like a howl than laughter, demented giggles released in a disconcerting row, all colorfully lined up just as the destruction in his mind was, a time bomb ready to ignite and explode. I had long since stopped trying to save him, protect me, this freak of man bent solely on a single tangible dream that I always have to stop. I loathe him for it, all the destruction he brings, all the lives he has ended. He has done nothing for this city, nothing at all, but for me…

For me he has done everything.

If not for him, this madman who painted his face and twisted his genius, I would be nothing; chances are I would have been dead by now. The police had been hunting me, the citizens questioning my morals, until he showed up, the embodiment of what every person—every government fears; complete anarchy, absolute chaos.

In this world where life is followed and structured by rules, how can one be expected to break it? People can not think for themselves; no one can but one man, one being that defies all the set standards of this world: the Joker.

He can be called many things, and I've heard it all; madman, freak, fucker, clown, Clown Prince of Crime, demon in face paint, the man with the forever smile… But for me he will only be one thing, far outside all of those things into a world only we—me and him—knew. To me, he was only the Joker, nothing more and nothing less, and my main goal was to stop him.

Funny, I had never pictured the Batman with goals. Morals, yes, and a code to follow, but goals…? I had been given missions before, and yet I had done them on my own free will, never pressured, never hunted…but with the Joker, it was all different. I did not have a choice in the matter; when he attacked, I had to defend, when he threatened to kill or steal, I had to stop him. Everywhere he went I was sure to follow, watching more over him than the citizens, confronting him, beating him…

That was another thing: I always one. I knew it was an obvious thing—good triumphs over evil all the time, right? Then why did I feel like such a loser, like I had failed every time I left him in an unconscious heap on the ground?

Maybe it was because I simply could not get myself to turn him into the police—another break in my code of morals. He seemed to have that effect on me, doesn't he? No matter what I do, it is always his rules that dominate, his belief in chaos. But that was just the thing; chaos could not be contained, mayhem could not be enclosed or bottled up. Pandora's Box had been opened inside of this man with the smeared make up and wicked grin, and who am I to try to stop it?

More than once I have thought of giving in. I am not supposed to be this way—Batman is supposed to be strong, courageous, supposed to never forfeit… But I am, under all that armor, still one thing—a man. I am just a man, with the heart of a mortal, with my life at stake. A life that can so easily be ended…

I had never been a risk taker as a child, and in a way I still don't consider myself one; if anything, I merely take on the guise of the invincible Batman instead of becoming actually him, a body for him to do his bidding with. He is dark, mysterious, and I…I am not. I'm just a playboy, a rich snobby man who is only rich because his parents died. I've heard it all, and I've accepted it; it's not as though I can deny the claims, when I myself know that they are true.

It's funny…You'd think that in a way the invention of Batman saved me. Before him I had no purpose, no motivation, and now…With my dark suit on and the Joker prowling about, I am the dark savior, the Dark Knight, and every time I slip out into the shadows I feel it, pulsing through my veins like a second heartbeat.

And I'm alive…

The city, in those darkest hours when the world is secretly thriving with the dark life that matches it, is under my control in a way; of course, I end up sharing it with the Joker. We are the human embodiments of the night, I wreathed in black and he filled up to the brim with the darkness that lurked in every recess of his mind. We were the classic pair, the defender and the destroyer, the savior and the killer…And the two darkest beings that ever existed in such a city. Gotham was a dark place already, and now that he was loose blowing up the buildings, and I was scrambling to stop him…

He had told me once, on a usual night where we were facing off in an old warehouse, illuminated only partially under the light of a flickering lamp that we were like brothers, both born of the night. I had refused to believe him, but I had thought of those words long after they were spoken and I find myself still contemplating him…

That comment…There was no denying how true it really was. For all his lunacy, I had always considered the Joker to be a genius in his own crooked way, and that comment…It hit home.

We were like brothers in a sense, as disturbed as I am by that thought. We fight through the night, and the darkness reigns us. We are defined by a mission, a goal that sends us out into these vandalized streets every night among the cruelest and gruffest of men ready to support our cause. Yes…It was through the night that Batman was formed in the first place, when I dared to even think about that. From the darkness of a battered child's life…

From the blood of my parents, from the darkness that forever plagued me since that day, Batman rose up, a dark, lurking hero in my blackened mind that I had no choice but to follow. And the mask went on and on and on…

And never came off. Even in the daylight I found myself yearning for the darkness, for the being I would become and the madman I would face. The Joker…

I would see him tonight, as I did every night as a part of our routine. I knew he was planning to rob another bank tonight, or at least try to blow up a building. Actually, some times he surprised me, that mad mind of his coming up with plans that could be classified as darkly creative, sadistically genius, so I had learned to always be on my guard.

I sat perched on a building as I always did; studying the bank across from me I assumed he might try to rob, even though I constantly kept my ears strained for the sounds of sirens, for the heart pounding sound of an explosion. It was a dark night tonight…

There were few cars in the streets tonight, and a faint mist rolled around on the ground to make things that more eerie, that much more distorted; the perfect weather for my nemesis. It was almost enough to make me smile, even though I knew that there was no humor in the situation—there never was, despite the fact that I battled a clown, if he could even be called that.

It was around two AM, according to the watch Fox had given me, when a black van pulled up in front of the bank, and I knew right away, just from the color, that it was him and his henchmen. I knew that he knew I was lurking around, and that was why I knew he did it; he wanted to fight me, just for the thrill of it. I was his favorite person in this whole city, apparently, and he could no last long without trying the break me.

Trying to break me, those rigid set of morals I had…

But I could never let that happen—Batman could not take that. He was already slowly being corrupted by the lies of the police, the distrust from the people; if not for his morals, the only thing he believed made him mortal, than what would happen to him? To…me? I could not bear the thought of killing someone, and yet…With all the destruction he saw, the Batman…He almost wanted to. To feel blood run down his hands…

But he had morals to follow; I had morals to follow. And if I broke them…

I saw him step out of the car, smile in place, and I saw what I would become. He turned, white face glowing, red lips appearing like blood turned up in a far too wide grin, and those black eyes from Hell met mine.

A second passed, two, and then I jumped, flying from that building with clenched fists as I fell from the brink of sanity and safety.

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_Ok, I literally just wrote this randomly, so sorry if it's weird or whatever…I thought it sounded pretty good but meh, who am I to tell? You tell me yourself by reviewing, please! Oh, and I was thinking of doing a fo0llow up from the Joker's POV, but I don't know…What do you think? And tell me--how far are you from the brink? Hahaha...God I'm sad..._

_Please review! _


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